


Sleep Medicine

by Ghosts_Writer



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Insomnia, M/M, Sleeping Bags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghosts_Writer/pseuds/Ghosts_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John have to sleep in a tent while on a case, and Sherlock has trouble adjusting to the less than great sleeping conditions. John's helpful though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Came to me last night as I was struggling with my sleeping bag after a concert, although I was tired as hell, while my boyfriend was sleeping soundly. It was outrageous and I thought "What would Sherlock do?" and the answer was simple enough - wake up John and complain.
> 
> It's totally crack and you can read it either as first time or established relationship, although I figure it would be first time. 
> 
> Not betaed or brit-picked
> 
> Mention of M/M action, so be warned - but not enough to warrant a explicit rating, I'd say

Sherlock sighed exasperated. This was tedious. This was hell. He looked to his right, seeing the hill of fabric rise and fall evenly. Sherlock snorted annoyed. 

“John!” he said, louder than strictly necessary at the close proximity of the tent and definitely louder than necessary to wake his blogger.

“Whasse matter?” came the sleepy reply of the ex-soldier who didn't even turn around.

“I can't sleep.” Sherlock replied with an overly dramatic sigh that implied the _obviously._

The fabric next to him rustles as John turned on his other side without any problems to gaze at Sherlock through the semi-darkness. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Sherlock asked sarcastically. “Maybe because I'm stuck in a semi transparent tent during full moon, maybe because we're lying on the hard ground and I'm positive there's a rock sticking right between my shoulder blades. Or maybe because I'm tied up in this cruel excuse of a sleeping bag!”

Just to demonstrate his point he shifted from here to there, tossing his legs without purpose.

“What's the problem with the sleeping bag?” John asked, evidently not seeing the awfulness of it.

“You are kidding, right?” Sherlock questioned, his eyebrows furrowed together fiercely. “If I put my arms in, it's too warm, if I leave them out it's too cold. My legs have no room at all, in fact, my whole body has no room at all. I can't even turn because this thing will get twisted around me and become even tighter!” 

His frown turned into an outright scowl as he heard John chuckled next to him.

“Well, aren't you a bit spoiled. Never had a camping trip as a kid, did you?” John's voice was still filled with laughter and Sherlock simply refused to let it effect his mood in a positive way.

“No, John, my family could afford hotels.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, he was aware of the twist in John's expression without seeing it and he really didn't need to ask his signature _not good_? However, as he never had been truly able to defuse such a situation he used the only thing that had ever worked – distraction. “Why don't you have trouble sleeping? You can't possibly be comfortable?”

John sighed. “Sherlock, I've served in Afghanistan. Do you really think a bit of moonlight and a rock stuck in my back were the worst of my problems?” he pushed himself up on one elbow to look at Sherlock again. “Besides, _I_ know my way around a sleeping bag.”

The detective crossed his arms and huffed out a breath, preparing himself to go into a tantrum.

“You know, there's a trick to sleeping in bad conditions.” John mentioned. “You just need to be really knackered.”

“Oh, John, thank you so much for your ever so helpful advice.” Sherlock replied, sarcasm dripping from his words. “And how do you suppose I get _knackered_?” He looked at John just in time to see a devilish smile cross the doctor's face. 

A moment later his sleeping bag was zipped open, and he felt a hand ghost over his trousers. 

“John?” he asked tentatively but was hushed right away.

“Shut it. I've prescribed you the John Watson sleep medicine.”

Sherlock did notice the smugness in John's voice and was about to comment on it, however before he could his trousers were open, his cock was out and vanished inside John's mouth, so the word he had intended to say came out as “Hnnnng”.

Thoughts were completely discarded from Sherlock's mind and therefore it could have been a minute or an hour later when John pulled back, swallowing hard and then lay back down. 

It might have been a minute of an hour later, too, when Sherlock's mind finally returned to some small capacity. It was enough for him to work up what John had said before he had started. “John Watson sleep medicine?” he asked, his voice a drawl of sleepiness.

“100% effective and no negative side effects. Although, maybe I should have warned out that it's extremely addictive.” John grinned at the tent ceiling.

“And I'm an addict.” The words were slurred and followed by soft snoring.

John chuckled as he turned to his side again. “100% effective.” he grinned.


End file.
